In which a 'young' woman of indeterminate age, acceptable parentage, adequate means, proper standing, and no matrimonial inclination attempts to discover her Romantic Ideal by slogging through every single one of Ms. Austen's fictional works.

Wednesday, April 28, 2010

I have always, always wanted to visit Prince Edward Island. Since the first time I read Anne-with-an-E-Shirley, since the first time I watched those lovely Kevin Sullivan PBS movies (and all the hundreds of times since), since my friend Melanee's husband took her there for their honeymoon eons ago and I was green with envy--someday I've got to go to Prince Edward Island.

The other day I surfed around, checking out travel options and packages, just window-shopping a bit. Before I even knew it, I was swooning. Swooning, I tell you! Beaches, lighthouses, quaint little paths, beautiful old farmhouses, elegant resorts, long green lawns, colorful boats lined up the pier, dunes overlooking the sea... I'm not sure, but I may have drooled on my sleeve just a little bit.

Midst the sighing and swooning, I distinctly heard myself breathe out, "Oh, it's just so ROMANTIC!"

No idea why, not sure if this feeling translates to anything literary (other than the whole Anne of Green Gables thing that started this fascination, and you already know how I feel about that), but ladies & gentlemen:

Thursday, April 22, 2010

For pretty much all of first grade, which is practically an eternity in the life of a soon-to-be 7-year old, Grace has been in love with a classmate named Jonathan. This love is apparently returned. I asked Grace how she knew that Jonathan liked her back, and she cupped my cheeks in her hands and said, "because he does this to my face, and I do back to him, so I know he loves me." Makes sense.

Last week Grace spent an hour begging me to come to class the next day and play out a little script she developed. It went something like this:

Mommy comes to the classroom door.

Mommy: "Which one of you is Jonathan? Would Jonathan please raise his hand?"

When the poor boy raises his hand Mommy responds:

Mommy: "Jonathan, would you come out in the hall with me for a minute?"

Jonathan follows Mommy into the hall.

Mommy: "Jonathan, would you please marry Grace when she grows up?"

After answering this one simple question, Jonathan is free to return to the classroom and Mommy reports back to Gracie with her marital fate.

Needless to say, the reason this discussion went on for an hour is because Mommy, party pooper that she is, balked at doing Grace's proposing for her. Couldn't Grace do it herself? No, because that would be too embarrassing. Because having your mother propose for you isn't embarrassing at all. Don't you think Jonathan might be a little bit embarrassed to have Grace's mom ask him this question? Well, maybe, but that's better than if BOTH Grace and Jonathan are embarrassed, which is what will happen if Grace asks. Hmmm. What if the teacher doesn't like the class being interrupted for such a silly reason? It's not silly, and she won't mind, because she wants Grace to marry Jonathan. Uh, how do you know Mrs. K supports this? Because she loves me and she wants me to be happy, and I will be happy if I marry Jonathan. Oy.

We compromised. Grace agreed to write a letter asking the all-important question. While I put the twins to bed she wrote the rough draft, seen above, because Mommy is sneaky & saved it from the garbage. After the twins were safely slumbering, she requested pretty pink paper to write the REAL love letter, and Mommy's help correcting the spelling.

The actual letter read, "Dear Jonathan, Can you marry me? You are cute. Love, Grace."

After I tucked the girls into bed we snuggled and chatted for a little while, thankfully about non-romance related topics. Conversationally, I told the girls that I was going to take a couple of classes this summer, and we could do homework together after dinner. Almost as an aside, I mentioned that I was taking one of the classes with someone they know, who for some freaky-weird reason they have pegged as one of their top-candidates for stepdaddydom.

Mia bolted up in bed. "Oh YAY," she enthused. "Now you will fall in love!"

Grace snuggled into the covers and sighed. "That's perfect, Mom," she said. "You'll take the class together and you will smooch and then you'll get married."

I moved quickly to disabuse them. "Sorry, not gonna happen, girls."

Mia indignantly asked why; Grace gave me a long-suffering look--the one she gives me when I'm being particularly dumb.

"Because that's not the way it works," I responded to Mia's question. "You don't just take a class with somebody and decide to marry him. That's not how you find a husband." I silently applauded myself for ending this discussion with such finality.